WH Auden


At The Party - Poem by WH Auden

Unrhymed, unrythmical, the chatter goes:
Yet no one hears his own remarks as prose.

Beneath each topic tunelessly discussed
The ground-bass is reciprocal mistrust.

The names in fashion shuttling to and fro
Yield, when deciphered, messages of woe.

You cannot read me like an open book.
I'm more myself than you will ever look.

Will no one listen to my little song?

Perhaps I shan't be with you very long.


A howl for recognition, shrill with fear,
Shakes the jam-packed apartment, but each ear
Is listening to its hearing, so none hear.


Comments about At The Party by WH Auden

  • Rookie - 59 Points Brian Jani (5/9/2014 2:41:00 PM)

    Auden this is a nice poem Wow I enjoyed your poem (Report) Reply

    0 person liked.
    0 person did not like.
  • Rookie Stuart Mason (6/6/2006 5:53:00 PM)

    Marry me wystan, i'l be forever yours. (Report) Reply

Read all 2 comments »



Read this poem in other languages

This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.

I would like to translate this poem »

word flags

What do you think this poem is about?

Read poems about / on: howl, song, fear



Poem Submitted: Friday, January 3, 2003



[Hata Bildir]